From the great room of the inn, while my guests mingled over their wine and cheese, I’d watched the interaction between Darby and Arianna. I’d felt like a voyeur and knew I was invading their privacy, but I couldn’t look away. Trust, I’d thought. I need to show some trust. But then Arianna had thrown herself into his arms. From my angle, I hadn’t been able to see if they’d kissed on the mouth. Oh, God, if he kissed her I might die.
Seething with distrust and insecurity, I moved from the window as Arianna headed across the lawn toward the back entrance. Soon, she would step foot in my sanctuary and my dream come true. Somehow, knowing she and Darby had exchanged words made me wish I could send her back to California, regardless of the extra money she’d brought into my life. She was poison.
But what of Darby? Was he truly over her? What had passed between them? Was there a part of him that still wished for her to be his wife? Had she seen the error in her own judgment when she chose that idiot Rob over Darby? And if so, how would that knowledge change Darby’s feelings for me? Was I second best until first place presented itself?
I turned from the window and walked over to a clump of my guests to offer them a refill on their wine, pretending that my insides were not a quiver of nerves.
“Another of the merlot, please?” Mrs. Hennings, who had checked in with her two adult daughters that afternoon, asked me. She was a slim woman in her late fifties and smelled of expensive perfume. They’d come from Washington state and would stay a week. Their annual “girls’” vacation was the highlight of her year, she’d told me when they checked in. This was their first time at my inn. They planned on coming last autumn but unfortunately, the inn was nothing but charred wood by then.
My employee John had left to grab more crackers and another bottle of white. We weren’t accustomed to so many guests and had not put out enough. Normally, my nearly full inn would have made me giddy with relief and joy, but I couldn’t shake my dark thoughts about Darby. Was he like my dad, ready to leave whenever a shiny object presented itself?
Glad for something to do, I went over to the bar and poured Mrs. Hennings another glass of the Merlot. After delivering it to her, I looked around to see if anyone else needed a refill. The daughters, beautiful young ladies in their early twenties, were curled up together on the couch looking through one of my coffee-table books on historic inns across the world. They were almost finished with their glasses of rosé. I picked that bottle up to give them a refill.
Gerald’s piano playing lent a perfect soundtrack to the evening with his achingly beautiful music. Outside, the setting sun’s orange glow blanketed the grass and trees. The sprinklers over the grass spurted to life, sending cascading drops of water into the air that sparkled in the silky twilight.
My dozen or so guests took up various locations in the great room. A pair of honeymooners were cuddled in an oversize armchair talking quietly. They had eyes only for each other. As it should be.
A middle-aged couple, celebrating their empty nest, was on the window seat with a puzzle laid out on the coffee table next to them. A group of young women on a bachelorette trip were sitting around one of the round tables, planning out their evening while sipping glasses of white. Another couple, gay men in their forties, were near the piano, clearly enjoying the music.
This was my dream. A reality finally, after all my saving and hard work. Why didn’t it feel better? I was still me, I realized. Maybe that was the problem.
Darby would be on his way home. Would he still want to meet later? I itched to pull out my phone and see if he’d texted but kept myself in check. Being present for my guests was my job now. Even if one of them was Arianna Bush, who at the moment had entered the lobby and headed toward the bar.
I met her there, with my bottle of rosé still in hand. “Arianna, may I get you something to drink?” I sounded too formal and slightly suspicious, even to my own ears.
She darted a glance my way, then ran her fingers through her dark hair, which hung straight and shiny down her back. I’d been brave at dinner but now, standing here with her, I wanted to slither away and hide under a rock. How could I ever compete with her? No wonder she was a successful influencer. She glowed.
I hated her.
“I’d love a glass of chardonnay,” Arianna said. “But I see you don’t have any.”
“John will be right back with some,” I said. “Would you like a little rosé while you’re waiting?”
She made an impatient, almost imperceptible sigh. Had she grown that accustomed to everything coming to her exactly when she wanted it? Was that what wealth provided? Did it make one troubled over the tiniest of inconveniences when everything suddenly appeared whenever they wanted?
I poured her a quarter-full glass of the rosé and tried to think of something to say. “He’s making great progress on the gazebo.”
“Yes, he is.” She drank half of what I’d poured her in one gulp.
“Where’s Rob tonight?”
“He went into town where the internet was better. Something for work.” A dig? Maybe, but who cared anyway? This was a spoiled, duplicitous woman who thought only of herself. She was dangerous. My sense of sanity wanted to slip away. This was why I didn’t become involved with men. They only hurt me in the end. Trey was the only man I could trust to always be there for me. Why had I hoped for anything different? Men leave.
“He’ll be back to take me to dinner,” Arianna said.
“Good. I hope you’ll have a nice evening.” I set aside the bottle of rosé. John returned with a tray of cheese and crackers and a bottle of the white tucked under his arm.
“Everything all right, Miss Wattson?” A retired air force pilot, John was in his early sixties with silvery hair and a broad jaw.
“Yes, fine, John. Thank you. Ms. Bush would like a glass of the white, though.”
He gave her his best American hero smile before splashing a generous pour into a glass. After she had it in hand, he set out across the room to offer my newlywed couple a refill.
“Thanks again for last night,” I said, not meaning a word. “It was a generous thing to do.”
“We have the means, so it’s no big deal.” Arianna’s hand shook as she brought the glass to her mouth.
“Is everything okay?” She seemed upset and jumpy. What did it mean? God, I wanted to just sit her down and make her tell me everything they’d talked about.
“Yes, fine.” Her gaze flickered to my face. “Seeing Darby’s had more of an effect on me than I thought it would.”
My stomach dropped to the floor. This is it. The beginning of the end. Why had I been so stupid? “In what way?” I managed to ask without my voice shaking.
“Are you two really engaged?”
“Um, yeah. Why?” Had he told her the truth?
She looked me straight in the eye. “You don’t seem like his type.”
“Opposites attract?” Was that what she meant? Or was she implying that she was his type and not me?
“You’re not opposites. You’re exactly the same. Which I’ve heard doesn’t always mean a good relationship. In the end, couples need to challenge each other. You two seem like a comfortable old pair of shoes. Boredom could set in at any moment.” She watched me over her tipped-up glass before placing her glossy lips to the rim. How did she keep that lipstick intact while drinking?
“Things that work,” I muttered instead. Like Guy Clark and his Susanna.
“I’m sorry?” Arianna watched me with those big, fabulous, perfectly made-up eyes.
“Nothing.”
“I’m going to be honest with you,” Arianna said, “and tell you that I don’t think Darby loves you. I mean, woman to woman, right? We need to take care of each other.”
My throat was so tight I could barely speak. Sweat had dampened the palms of my hands. “Why would you say that?”
She leaned toward me, conspiratorially. “You should ask Darby. Hopefully, he’ll tell you the truth before he hurts you worse.”
“How would you know what he feels?” I asked, quieter than I wished.
“He and I just have one of those relationships. It’s special. We understand each other very well.”
“If it was so special, then why did you break his heart?”
She hesitated for a moment, and her mouth curled up in a mean-girl smile. The same one I’d seen last night directed at Darby. “Sometimes I wonder that myself. It might have been one of the biggest mistakes of my life.”
This was a game to her. It gave her pleasure to mess everything up for anyone she sensed could be happy. She couldn’t stand the idea of Darby with someone else even though she didn’t want him herself. Insidious, like a virus one didn’t know they had. Doing damage, little by little until it was too late to save yourself.
“Does Rob know your feelings about Darby?”
Her eyes flickered, ready for a fight. “Are you threatening me?”
“Threatening you? With what?” I asked, forced innocence in my voice. “That you kissed my fiancé?”
“You saw the kiss, did you?” The same evil cat smile played at her mouth. “I’m so sorry. We should have been more discreet. Of course, I didn’t expect anyone to be creepily watching us from the windows.”
I crossed my arms over my chest in a gesture of self-preservation. “I’m starting to get you. I see what you’re up to.”
“Up to? Don’t be silly. I consider you a new friend and wanted you to know that Darby may not be telling you the whole story.”
“Which is?”
“He’s never gotten over me, and this whole thing with you was simply a distraction. Now that he’s seen me again, all the old feelings came back. I mean, what did you expect? He told me once that I’m the love of his life. That doesn’t go away just because you’re sleeping with someone else.”
“You don’t want him. Why are you messing with him like this?”
“I’m not messing with him. Goodness, you are delusional. I’m sorry to have upset you. I shouldn’t have said anything. I was trying to help. The same reason I wanted to have the wedding here and the gazebo built.”
“To help me? How’s that exactly?” This woman needed help. She was sick.
“I heard about your troubles with the fire, and I wanted to give you some business.”
“What about the sentimental reasons? Your mom and all that?”
“Of course that played into the decision, but it doesn’t matter what you think about me. The truth is—I was trying to do a nice thing by having my wedding here instead of the lodge. Everyone knows how much financial trouble you’re in here. Once I realized you were a friend of Darby’s, I wanted to help even more. I had no idea you were dating until later.”
“How did you know I was a friend of Darby’s?” Did she mean before she came to the inn and asked about booking her wedding here? “When did you know that exactly?”
“I know about his life here. I keep tabs on him.”
“But how? How would you know about me?”
“Fine, I knew about you back in Cliffside Bay. I went looking for Darby that night I broke up with him. I was worried sick about him. I saw the two of you leave that bar and I followed you back to the resort—saw you go up to his room together. Then, recently, I saw photos of you and him online and figured you had followed him out here. Or the other way around. He’s like a puppy dog that way. Once he gets even a pat on the head, he loves you forever.”
“He’s not online.” Something about this wasn’t adding up. In fact, she wasn’t making any sense at all. She’d just told me he didn’t love me, and now he was a puppy following me around. “He purposely got off social to avoid you.”
“It was a photo of the two of you at that art opening. Rob knows Crystal, or knew her late husband, and wanted to support her by buying a piece of artwork from the gallery. Stormi had an online version of the opening so that people could see the art without having to be there. You two were standing near a painting, obviously together. I was delighted that he’d finally moved on. That was before I knew the full story.”
It took me a moment to place what she was referring to. Then it came back to me. The art gallery opening. We’d all been there to support Crystal and Stormi. Darby and I had talked for a few minutes that night in front of a painting we both liked. That had been one of our only interactions that evening, but apparently, it had been captured in a photo. She was right. I had felt an attraction that night. Maybe he had too? As the reality of what she was saying to me sank in, a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach overwhelmed me. This was a dangerous woman in front of me. She was not at all what she’d seemed to be. Not now or two years ago when she’d been dating Rob behind Darby’s back. Again, it occurred to me that this was a fun game to her. How many lives could she mess with before it was all finished?
“What do you want?” I asked. “For real. You came to town to see Darby. To rub it in his face that you bagged Rob Wright. But then once you arrived and saw him again you realized that it wasn’t enough to let him be? You needed to know if you could still get him back. But why? I don’t get that part. You got Rob and broke Darby’s heart. Wasn’t that enough?”
“You’re being really weird right now,” Arianna said in her well-honed gaslighting voice. “None of what you said is true. I was trying to be nice and give you some business. It was the least I could do for Darby’s new girlfriend. I have so much and you have so little. Gosh, it seemed like the right thing to do. I had no idea he would be the one to build the gazebo. That was a happy coincidence, because it’s obvious he really needs the work. Poor baby. One can’t live on passion alone. I mean for his work, not you.”
“No wonder the men didn’t know what you were doing. Or who you actually loved. You talk in circles until the other person starts to believe it’s them with the problem. Did you take some kind of gaslighting course at influencer school?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She set down her glass of wine. “Anyhoo, I must run. I’m meeting Rob for dinner.” She squeezed my arm. “But sweetie, for your sake, please ask Darby about our exchange this afternoon. You deserve someone who’s honest with you. I can’t bear to see someone as nice as you get hurt, especially when this business venture of yours is so tenuous.” She clucked her tongue. “I really do feel for you.”
With that, she turned on one high-heeled designer boot and left the room. I remained, shaking and wondering what the heck had just happened, coming out of my stupor only when John asked me a question. I turned to him and tried to focus on what he was saying. All of this would have to be sorted out later. I had a business to run.
But even as I gave myself these instructions, I couldn’t shake the sense of impending doom. I would have to ask Darby about what happened between them. And I would have to be strong enough to hear what I’d feared all along. He loved Arianna. Not me. No matter how good it seemed from my side, he was obviously pining away for someone else. A sick, manipulative nightmare of a woman. If that was who he chose, even though she would stomp on him again, then he wasn’t the man for me anyway. The sooner I knew, the better. I was fine. I would be fine. It wasn’t as if we were dating for a year or something. Not as we’d pretended to be. When did the line between make-believe and truth blur?
I drove home from the inn about an hour later, alternating between tears one moment and overwhelming rage the next. It was twenty-to-eight by the time I arrived at my apartment. He would be here any moment, and I had nothing to cook. I’d been so distracted I’d forgotten to stop at the store. But it was for the best. I was not cooking for a man about to leave.